


Trigger

by orphan_account



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Character Death, Gen, Supernatural AU: Croatoan/End'verse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:38:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 385
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376693
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After Bobby gets infected with Croatoan, Castiel does the deed -- pretty miserably.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Trigger

“You do what you gotta do, son,” Bobby says, looking out the dusty window. His features are twisted, as if in pain. Castiel watches him and knows that it isn't pain that Bobby is expressing, it's exertion. The effort at holding something back. Something that none of them want to identify.

The wheels whine sightly as Bobby turns the chair about with one arm, and looks Castiel up and down.

“You're not Dean. Ask you to do the honours then, did he?” he asks, sounding half disappointed, half disgusted.

Castiel takes a long draught from the bottle he's holding, then throws it, empty, into the corner. Hands now free, he clicks the safety off. “I couldn't let him,” he replies. Castiel still isn't very good with firearms – the force always sends him keeling back more than he expects and his aim leaves a lot to be desired. But he can do this, at these close quarters. He cocks the gun.

“Make it clean,” Bobby says sarcastically, and Castiel laughs, just a flash of teeth. He knows that the hunter is mocking him.

"Won't promise anything,” Castiel replies, closing one eye as he lines up the shot. The room seems to be swaying slightly. He holds the gun still-ish, the taste of bile in his throat. He concentrates on keeping his aim steady for a few long moments, but doesn't squeeze the trigger.

“What are you waiting for?”

“I don't want to miss.” Castiel's vision is blurring slightly, and he's shaking hard now. It used to be so easy. Just a hand to the forehead, a flash of light.

“You can do it, son,” Bobby says, gentle. It's the first time he's called Castiel that.

He pulls the trigger, and misses.

Bobby's shout of _GODDAMNIT_ rings through the room. He has one hand pressed to his stomach, blood leaking between his fingers. Castiel grits his teeth. “My bad,” he says, willing his vision to focus. He shoots again, hitting a lung, and somehow, through what must be mind-bending agony, Bobby works up the will to glare at him.

“Third times a charm,” Castiel says, his voice breaking, and fires his last shot.

There's nothing but silence for a long time and then the heavy sound of Dean's footfalls on the steps outside, and a muttered curse.


End file.
